


Soldiers of the Gods

by 14barrelsofkittens



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "road trip", Angst, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Camp Half-Blood, Civil War, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Godly Parents, I removed the tag about Keith/oc because I felt like it was unnessisary, Keith had a relationship in the past, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Quests, Running Away, So much angst, Soooo much angst, Swearing, a little violent, a lot violent, because its dumb, consistent genre? what's that?, demigod/alien invasion voltron AU, flash backs, galra are invading the earth, lance in crop tops, no, slowburn?, son of aphrodite!lance, son of hades!keith, we'll add tags as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14barrelsofkittens/pseuds/14barrelsofkittens
Summary: Lance, Keith, Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, and Allura all are called onto a quest to stop the invading Galra.Lance finds himself the leader of a quest that he hadn’t planned on going on. He struggles to stay focused with his family (and loved ones) in danger of the Galra empire. He learns that he is ever going to succeed he’s going to need to put his team before his own needs.Keith trudges along in a century he hadn’t even known until three years ago. Keith is caught between his past and his future as begins reliving his memories of his early teen years. Unable to talk to anyone about it Keith feels like he’s holding back the rest of the team.





	1. The Rise

**Author's Note:**

> All Lance sections done by the lovely HidingInAPillowFort, and all Keith stuff by me (14barrelsofkittens).
> 
> Enjoy and feel free to comment!

 

 

 

 

Lance pulled at the safety belt across his chest, his shirt wrinkled against the pressure. He stared out the window of the strawberry van, the palm of his hand pushed his cheek into his eye, making his line of sight slimmer. The city's silhouette slipped out of view, the towering buildings Lance called home. He kicked up his legs, draping them over Pidge, who was fiddling with several mechanical parts. A gear, or something that was round, fell into Lance's lap. He picked the object off his ombre leggings. He waited for Pidge to ask for it back, but when they didn’t he began balancing it on anything flat that he could reach.

 

He twisted his body, still keeping his legs over Pidge, who had started to use him as a resting place for several files and loose pieces of paper. Lance stared at the stretched fabric of the seat in front of him. He reached forward poking at pouch on the back side of the seat. He pulled back on the elastic, snapping it back with a loud “pop”. The large boy sitting in the seat jumped, more than surprised by the sudden noise.

 

The boy turned in his seat, he opened his mouth to speak, but the car hit a bump and the boy- Hunk- turned back. Hunk fumbled for a paper bag on the dashboard, he weakly put the bag to his lips. When Hunk didn’t make an attempt to speak again, Lance turned up his music, drowning out the sound of traffic.

 

Pidge wrote down several notes down on the paper across Lance’s leg, sending a shiver up him. He ignored the tickling feeling and stared out the window again.

 

"Lance?"

 

Lance tugged his headphones from his ears. Turning his attention back to Pidge, who was holding up their notes up to the light.

 

"What?"

 

"Call you pass the cooler? I'm parched.”

 

Lance half heartedly reached for the cooler behind him, when he couldn't reach he let his hand lay there dangling. His forefingers were extended, still trying to reach.

 

"Um... I can't quite reach," Lance rotated, his face scrunched. “Let me just..."

 

Everyone turned to face him, fear across their faces. "NO!" It took a moment for Lance to realize what they were shouting about.

 

Lance sometimes could control water, but when he did it was uncontrollable. He had some heritage from Poseidon on his father’s side (he was one fourth Poseidon), but most of his godly blood was Aphrodite (one half). He had inherited the water moving (bending?) gene from his father but he sucked at controlling it. One time he exploded the pipe system under the picnic benches when he was trying to move a puddle of water.

 

It was understandable for everyone to think he was trying to move the water (which he wasn't), if he messed up the entire van could explode for all he knew. He turned around again, facing Hunk who was sitting in the front seat.

 

"Chill, I wasn't going to try to move it," Lance said. Hunk took a breath. "Just turn around and read your map."

 

Hunk turned around quickly and shoved his head into his map, transfixed with charm speak.

 

Lance found his 'powers' amazing. Lance could tell or convince someone to do anything from smile to kiss him (he's used that more than once). He tried not using it against his friends (sarcasm is his enemy), but sometimes it slips out. Very few people have ever seemed to resist his charm speak for very long. He did wish that his water controlling powers were stronger. Do you know how impressed girls (or guys) get when you can control water? A lot, that's the answer. Lance finally got a grip on the cooler, he passed it to Pidge. Pidge adjusted their glasses, shoving it far up their nose.

 

"Thank you," Pidge said itching their forehead.

 

Pidge was a child of Athena (also one eighth Hephaestus). They had very dirty blonde hair and a green turtleneck on. They had known Lance for a long time, since Hunk brought them to Camp Half Blood. They had proven Lance wrong too many times for them not to get acquainted.

 

"Please no yelling," Allura said.

 

Allura was a mortal (she could see through the mist though), and she had thick wavy white hair. She had volunteered to drive Hunk, Pidge, and himself to New Rome. She claimed it was because she needed an excuse to get away from CHB, but Lance knew she was trying to investigate who her godly parents might be. Hunk had said that she had a aura of a half blood, so she has continued to investigate. Hunk, Lance's best friend, was a satyr. He was the one who had brought Lance and Pidge to camp, he also helped Allura get to camp (She claimed she didn't need help, but a tree nymph helped the rest of the way). He was large and in charge, his furry legs crossed as he read the map.

 

"I know where I'm going Hunk," Allura turned back onto the main road. "And besides, this way causes less monsters to notice us."

 

"I'm the one who can smell monsters, you're just a mor-" Hunk stopped himself. "You missed the turn."

 

"No," Allura kept driving. "The last three vans that went that way were attacked, we're going this-"

 

Allura didn't have a chance to finish her sentence. There was a loud “Bang” as a glowing laser blashed the side of the van. The metal on the exterior shook and bent. Lance turned to look out the window, barely spotting the attacker.

 

_Galra._

 

“EVERYONE OUT WHEN I STOP THE CAR!”

 

“EVEN WITH THAT-” Lance screamed over the sound of… what the hell was that noise? “THING OUT THERE?” The galra continued a steady stream of lasers, the sound was deafening.

 

The attacks hit the thin metal doors, the only thing keeping it out. Despite being a vicious, blood thirsty, monster, galra were surprisingly human like. Everything from the way they walked to their facial feature screamed human.

 

_Maybe that’s why they blend in so well. Why they’re always where you least-_

 

Allura stopped the car. Everyone launched forward, Lance threw his hand across Pidge, trying to keep them down. Hunk’s head slammed down on the dashboard, he groaned in pain.

 

“OUT OUT,” Allura screamed. “EVERYONE OUT!”

 

“But the-”

 

“I’ll take care of it.”

 

Allura was dangerous when she said this. It was the kind of this that would be said before someone goes all bad-donkey on an entire army. This was one Galra. It was quiznaked. Allura pushed open the door with enough force to toss the Galra off it’s feet as it approached. She didn’t have any weapons, she didn’t need them.

 

Lance wanted to watch her kick Galra butt, but unfortunately for him safety was not near that… thing. Pidge and Lance dragged Hunk out of the car, pulling him toward the tree line, toward safety. The trees whisper, they sway, they hypnotize Lance. He stumbles over his feet. Pidge shout for help as he crumbles to the ground, losing all feeling in his legs

 

Pidge is loud. Their cry is ear crushing. Too loud for Lance to cover up, too loud to stop. For a moment Lance thinks he sees zombies, cracks in the ground opening up. A black haired god… or something like it.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith hated his cabin. Sure, he wasn’t a sunshiney person, but that didn’t mean black… _everything_. On the bright side, he had it to himself. That’s the only perk of being a child of Hades.

 

_Hades._

 

Or, well, Pluto. Same difference. Of course Keith is a son of Hades, _the_ son of Hades. Anything would be better (except Aphrodite, gods, they were awful), but of course he was stuck with the lord of the Underworld for a parent.

 

Keith stared into the darkness of his cabin. The blood red curtains kept him from truly knowing if it was morning or midnight. The darkness wasn’t quite a black, it was more of a dark, brooding purple. A purple that stretched across the ceiling. A darkness that seemed to drip onto the floor.

 

 Keith’s ears twitched, the music of a cricket caught his attention. It was small and subtle, the kind of thing you only hear when you’re looking for it. He listened for a minute, trying to hear the chattering noise of people. Nothing. It was silent- the kind of silence you only hear when you’re looking for it.

 

This was the time to leave.

 

Keith lifted himself from his bed, the creaking noise made him cringe. He silently made his way to the back door. He lifted up on the doorknob, he held it stif, avoiding any noise he walked out. The harpies had impeccable hearing.

 

The air was crisp, cold, but refreshing, it stung his lungs. It strangled his throat, tickled his nose, he held back a cough. He hated the cold, honestly, he hated most things. He snuck around the Zeus cabin, heavy snoring filled his ears. The Poseidon cabin, Hera, Hephaestus, Hecate, Aphrodite. He slipped into the forest.

 

He took a breath, the atmosphere was different. It was more desolate, yet confided. Unfamiliar, yet more like home to Keith. He walked over to a tree and reached into a deep hollow in the trunk. He pulled out a bag, a sleeping pad and a book- _Wuthering Heights_. It was set in southern England, but it was as close as Keith wanted and needed to get to his old life. It gave him nostalgia for his childhood in the 19th century without bringing up all the memories Keith was trying to forget.

 

He made his way through the maze of trees, slipping silently around roots. His ears twitched at a faint noise. It was quiet, the source was a while away. Keith took off running. The forest was dangerous and should really never be entered (unless your name is Keith, apparently).

 

The noise becomes clearer, an ear slicing scream for help. Keith stopped at the edge of the tree line, looking out onto the dirt road leading to camp. He assessed the situation. Two demi-gods (is that a guy wearing a crop top?), a mortal, and a satyr. A Camp Half-Blood van lay in shreds to the side of the road. Two of them (the crop top dude and the satyr) were unconscious. The mortal swung her fist at a…

 

Shit. Shit shit shit. They were fighting Galra, two of them.

 

The Galra intersected the throw, grabbed her wrist, and twisted it in a quick sharp movement. She fell to her knees and screamed. The other Galra tugged on her white hair, which was back in a ponytail. The only reason she and her friends were alive was that the Galra’s guns were still in their holsters. Keith couldn’t help but think the Galra were playing with them, like cats with mice.

 

Without hesitation, Keith dropped his stuff behind a tree. He pointed at the ground at his feet and snapped his fingers. A skeletal hand shot out of the earth- then two, then three. Fallen warriors crawled their way out of the dirt, filled with the desire to beat the shit out of whomever Keith desired.

 

The skeletons crept down the hill. They wouldn’t be able to stand their ground if the Galra pulled out their guns, the lasers could disintegrate bone in an instant. At the very least Keith’s skeletons could distract them and give Keith enough time to come up from behind. He reached into the shadows and pulled out his weapon- a celestial bronze long sword, the pommel carved with the faces of Cerberus. He moved further down the hill, hiding himself behind a bush.

 

One of the skeletons reached up a bony hand and tapped the first Galra on the shoulder, a joke that forced a snicker from Keith. He whipped around, only for the skeleton to slam its bony fist into his face. The Galra soldier hit the ground like a sack of flour, leaving the other one to fight three off single-handedly. The soldier deflected the blade of a skeleton and whipped out his gun. Within five seconds, all three skeletons were reduced to piles of bones. The Galra held his ground and looked around, gun up. Keith was about to charge him, when both him and the Galra realized they had forgotten one very important detail.

 

The other demigod.

 

With a ear-piercing yell, the demigod ran at the Galra. Keith thought the Galra would shoot the child down in an instant, but then the kid threw something at his gun, and he dropped it like it burned him. The mortal girl got up and threw her good fist, but he caught it and sent her flying backwards. The soldier moved forward and grabbed the young demigod by their throat.

 

Keith took this as his queue to step in. He slid down the slope and rolled, popping up to stab the Galra through the back. The soldier fell to the ground, releasing his grip. The demigod looked at him in awe, hand to their throat. They must have been Roman, because the hem of a purple T-shirt poked out from under their green sweatshirt. They rubbed their neck. “Thank you, for you know, saving me and my friends. I’m Pidge.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Keith said, and slit the throat of the unconscious Galra. “We need to get to camp. Others could be on their way.”

 

Pidge nodded, and knelt by the mortal’s side. She was dazed but awake, but a gash on her shin told Keith she wouldn’t be walking anytime soon. Pidge looked at Keith. “With Lance unconscious, you need to grant her access to camp.” Lance must have been the boy in the crop-top.

 

“Fine. Can you carry her?”

 

They nodded in assent.

 

Keith kneeled by the satyr, who was starting to stir. The crop-top dude- Lance- was still completely unconscious at his side, a thin line of blood trickling down his forehead. “Big guy,” Keith said to the satyr, “Can you walk?”

 

“Calzones,” murmured the satyr, but then he shook his head and seemed to wake up. “Yeah. Walking. I can do that. Who are you? Did you just stab that Galra through the heart?”

 

Keith stood up. “He’s awake!”

 

Pidge nodded again, struggling to find a way to carry the mortal girl without hurting her. “Thank the gods. Hunk, carry Lance.”

 

“Oh, no, definitely not. Lance made me swear on the Styx not to pick him up after the whole incident at the Feast of Fortuna last year.”

 

“I’ve got it,” Keith said, chucking his sword into the shadow of the van. He scooped up the boy, one arm around his back and the other around his knees. Keith’s nostrils were immediately assaulted with the smell of vanilla, confirming his suspicion that Lance was a child of Aphrodite. It was pretty easy to spot her kids by their looks alone, and Lance certainly had plenty.

 

They made their way up the road, the quickest way to get to the Big House. The satyr- Hunk, Keith learned- talked nonstop. “It’s been years since I’ve been to Camp Half Blood. Was that rock always there? I went with Lance and Pidge to Camp Jupiter to check it out. We thought it would just be a few week trip, right? But then the communications went down for a while, then there were monsters and quests and what not, and before we knew it two years had passed. We decided to come back when the Galra came, and…”

 

Keith tuned him out and looked back at the scene of the fight. The Galra’s bodies lay on the ground. Their blood stained Keith’s jeans. The Galra didn’t disintegrate nice and clean like monsters did. Because they weren’t monsters.

 

They weren’t even from Earth.

 

* * *

 

Lance woke with a throbbing headache, which wasn’t unusual. For any demi-god waking up with a headache for no reason was a “regular” occasion. Also waking up after a wicked nightmare was also common. Lance didn’t feel like what he had just been through was a nightmare. It was, surprisingly, closer to a dream.

 

He had dreamt about a god. A fair skin, dark haired god (gods, he’s hot). Lance wished he could remember exactly what he looked like, he wanted to remember every detail. He he dreamt that he had saved him from the Galra (stupid Galra), he had dreamt that the god carried him back to camp… camp.

 

Lance was at camp. Lance was home.

 

Lance was where his family was, he was where he learned he couldn’t use a bow. He was where he learned how not to use a guitar. Where he learned he should never be let near lava, or a lake on a stormy night. Where he used make up for the first time, or wore a skirt (dam he rocked it). He was…

 

His eyes focused, letting Lance see the room. White ceiling, white walls, gods, this imfirirary needed a remodel. The only “interesting” part of the room was a hanging plant, with purple flowers dangling over the edge of the basket. Lance watched the petals sway back and forth with every current of air. One of the purple petals drifted down, floating down like a feather, landing on his nose. His hand twitched, unable to move it.

 

A hand moved into his line of sight, gently picking off the petal. Lance’s eyes darted down trying to get a look at who was there.

 

Black hair.

 

Fair skin.

 

Purple eyes.

 

“You drool when you sleep.” The boy leaned over him, his black hair dangling over Lance’s nose. He was about 17, maybe 18. The boy pulled a strand of hair behind ear, which promptly feel back in from of his face. His eyebrows knitted together. “Seriously, how do you drool so much? You’re like a human water fountain.” Lance lifted his hand (of course _now_ it’s working), he wipped of an unreasonable amount of drool off his cheek. Of course, the second someone attractive is around, Lance looks like crap.

 

Lance’s eyes started getting droopy again, but before he fall asleep again a hand fell on his face. Okay, so it wasn’t like a soft touch, more of a slap. A hard rough slap, Lance’s eyes flew open again. “Dude, wake up!” The boy slapped him again. “Wake up!”

 

“What the quiznak!” Lance rubbed his face. “With callouses that size you could cut me!”

 

“I’m not supposed to let you fall asleep.”

 

“Well-” Lance sat up, stopping himself mid-word, he didn’t have time to fight with- whatever his name is- right now, Lance had to find Pidge, Hunk and Allura. “Where are Pidge, Hunk and-”

 

“They’re fine. Allura is on the other side of the infirmary and Pidge and Hunk are outside,” Mullet (seriously, get a haircut) offered him a hand up. Lance reluctantly took it, barely getting on his feet. He handed him a glass of water, Lance took it, their fingers grazing across each other. Lance pulled his hand back quickly, dropping the glass in the action.

 

The glass shattered against the wood floor, small slivers wedged between the boards. “Oh, shi-” Lance began picking up the pieces, mullet -what's his name?- started helping as well.

 

“Wha- how are you so clumsy?” Mullet tossed the loose pieces into a trash bin under a side table.

 

“Wha- I’m perfect!”

 

“Perfectly annoying.”

 

“You hardly know me!”

 

“I know you enough.”

 

“Really, name one thing-”

 

“You wear crop tops, I think that’s enough for me to know that you’re annoy-” Mullet said, getting cut off by Lance.

 

“That’s BS! Crop tops aren’t annoying-” Lance looked down, where his shirt should have been (yes, a crop top), and he gasped. “Am I wearing- gasp- orange!”

 

There were plenty of colors that Lance wouldn’t wear, for example orange (one reason he went to New Rome with Pidge, Hunk, and Allura). He also wouldn’t wear black, except in winter (As long as he was his silver boots). So off the bat, he hated mullet-learn his name dammit. For starters the fact that he thinks that he know everything. Also he wore all black.

 

Black jacket.

 

Black shirt.

 

Black sneakers.

 

Black belt (not like a ninja- but still like a ninja).

 

Black hair.

 

Black jeans (actually those are pretty hot).

 

And Lance was pretty sure he saw him wearing black socks (black dress socks! With that jacket?).

 

“Oh! Sorry your girly crop top got ripped after- what did I do again? Oh yeah- I saved your life!”

 

“Oh Okay! First of all, clothes are gender neutral! Two, that was my fav shirt-”

 

“Did you just say ‘fav’?”

 

“Yes! That was my _fav_ shirt! And three, I am not annoying-”

 

A voice from behind spoke. “No, you’re annoying,” Lance turned to face Pidge, who had their arm in a cast. Pidge punched Lance in the arm.

 

“What the hell is with people punching and slapping me today?” Lance tried to punch Pidge back, but badly missed their arm.

 

“You’re weak and easy to pick on, and you weigh nothing,” Mullet shrugged when he spoke.

 

“How would you know?” Lance turned his attention back to Mullet, who had finished picking up the glass.

 

“I carried you to camp-”

 

“No, I don’t think so. You seem too weak.”

 

“Wha- how- you-”

 

“Who’s annoying now!?!” Lance put his hands on his waist, leaning forward, teasing Mullet.

 

“The fact that you have poor memory, simply makes you _more_ annoying, Lance,” Mullet walked him to the door. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out-”

 

“Nope. I’m not leaving till I know Allura is okay-”

 

“I'm fi-” Allura said. Lance turned to see her stumble, her hand pressed firmly against her forehead. “OW! Okay, not fine, not fine,” She stared at her feet, one hand on her forehead, the other bracing herself against a bed. Her eyebrows twitching from the pain (headache?), she relaxed, exhaled, then looked up at Lance. Her head turned her head, her pupils focused on Keith. “AH-” She gripped her forehead again, falling to her knees. Lance sprinted over, he helped Allura to her feet.

 

“I’m going to go,” Mullet said walking out.

 

Allura finally got her bearings, standing on her own. Her eyes scanned the room, like she was searching for something.

 

“You okay? You seemed…” Lance looked around the the room, following Allura’s line of sight. “Not okay. What happened?”

 

“I just saw- you know how I can see through the mist?”

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“Well, there was like... I could feel a thick layer of mist, but I couldn’t see through it.” Allura sat down.

 

“I thought you could just _see_ through it?”

 

“I don’t know, it was really thick.” Allura sipped some water. “Should I just be able to just _see_ through it?”

 

“I don’t know, you’re the one that has that ability. What did you even see?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure. Keith had- I’m not sure, I couldn’t see. That’s the problem.” Allura set down the water. “Anyway…”

 

“By the way,” Pidge stepped in. “Lance, you look stupid passed out.”

 

“Rude-” Lance started to speak, but Pidge put their hand over Lance’s mouth.

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Fine then, Pidge…”

 

“So Allura,” Pidge turned to face Allura. “I thought you could see through all mist without any effort?”

 

“I’m not sure, but I feel like that is how it should be.”

 

“Just- just try not to use your… power.”

 

“I can’t just- I’ll try. It was just around Keith, I think...”

 

Lance blinked. “Wait… who’s Keith?”

 

They didn’t answer.

 

\--

 

Lance was torn between hating and loving the Aphrodite cabin. Sure, there was his family. And there was room for all his clothes (besides he left most of his clothes in his foot locker anyways), plus there was lots of natural light for drawing. On the downside: pink. Okay, Lance would fight for hours to prove that the color pink (and all other colors) was gender neutral, but… that amount was absurd.

 

Pink curtains, pink floors. Floral pink bed sheets, flamingo pink pillow covers. Pink sinks, pink toothpaste, pink shower, pink rugs. Pink doors, pink beds, pink… pink everything. Gods damn everything.

 

Pink.

 

Pink.

 

**Pink.**

 

Lance swung open the front door of his cabin, he braced himself for a forceful hug from his sister (actual sister, not half). He was surprised by the lack of being tackled. He walked into the cabin, still prepared for the ambush. Must of his siblings were outside on the patio, sunbathing in the morning (or noon, he hadn’t noticed) light. Two other girls sad cross legged on the bed closest to the bathroom. One of the girls was unfamiliar to Lance, he assumed she must have been his sibling’s friend or girlfriend.

 

Lance almost hoped the other girl was his sibling’s girlfriend. Not only because they would make an adorable couple, but it would make Lance feel less desolate as the only child of Aphrodite to be not straight. Lance didn’t exactly _hide_ his sexuality, hell- he flaunted it. He wore crop tops every other day, put on lipstick when he could and literally flirted with anything that moved (and was human, but he can live with non-human). And he’d admit that he’s made out with a couple of guys over the course of his life (and girls, but that’s expected). But that didn’t mean he wasn’t alone. So far no other of his sibling had “come out”. Luckily he wasn’t the only other bi (or gay) demi-god at camp, there was Eric, son of Demeter (real cutie) and Sam, daughter of Apollo.

 

“Hey Lance? Heard you passed out?” Mel, his sibling, said. “Glad to you you’re okay, although, orange is not your color.”

 

Lance snickered. “No quiznak, Mel. Who’s this?”

 

_Please be her girlfriend. Please be her girlfriend. Please be her girlfriend. Please be her girlfriend._

 

“My friend Ally,” Mel said deadpan. Lance opened his mouth to speak. “And she isn’t interested in you.”

 

“I wasn’t going to say something about her being single-”

 

“I’m right here- see you at capture the flag, Mel,” the girl leaned forward, whispering something in Mel’s ear. Mel turned a bright shade of red.

 

“Shi- you can’t just say that,” Mel shoved the girl of the bed. “See you.”

 

The girl walked out, snickering under her breath.

 

“Where’s Sophie? She didn’t tackle me when I walked in, is she out on-”

 

“You didn’t hear?” Mel hugged a pillow, a paper wrinkling in her hand.

 

“... Hear what?”

 

“Sophie isn’t-” Mel wiped a tear away, suddenly crying. “The Galra took her… I thought you heard.”

 

Lance didn’t- Lance _couldn't_ say anything. Sure, he’d lost many family members to the wars of the Gods, but they were all half-siblings (not that they were any less of a family member). His sister, his biological sister, was taken, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, getting up to give him a hug. “I know you two were close.”

 

For maybe once in Lance’s life, he didn’t want a hug.

 

\--

 

Lance was eleven when he came to Camp Half Blood. He was at an art gallery for a school trip, when a large boy came out of nowhere and said they needed to leave. Lance wasn’t stupid, he knew the whole “Stranger Danger Stranger Danger,” thing, but for some reason he went with the boy.

 

Hunk, as he shortly found out, also grabbed a small child (Lance later found out they were only 8), who need a little more convincing to leave. They all left the museum and walked over to a van (Lance actually thought he was going to die). Pidge, the other person, seemed more than suspicious of Hunk and Lance, but obeyed.

 

Lance’s suspicions that he was getting murdered continued at he noticed a sword in the van. The suspicion continued as Hunk drove wildly and uncoordinated. It continued as they drove to a forest. And Lance was finally sure this was how he was going to die when a man (who had a horse for a torso) opened the van and threatened Lance with a spear.

 

Lance didn’t die though. He quickly found out that this was a camp for half-bloods (and descendants on half-bloods) to train and fight (ew).

 

It took Pidge less than 24 minutes to get claimed, which was extraordinary considering they were only eight. But, surprisingly, Lance took much longer. Despite his ridiculously handsome looks, Lance had no clue his mother was Aphrodite. Honestly he thought he was going to be claimed by Poseidon after he moved some of the water at the lake, but he wasn’t (Coran, the centar, figured he was a descendant). It took 9 months for Lance to get claimed, and by that time his sister, Sophie, had also joined camp. Sophie immediately was claimed and put in the Aphrodite cabin with Lance (they were claimed at the same time), which was nice since Lance hadn’t seen his family in some time.

 

It didn’t take long for Lance to feel out of place in the cabin. He surprisingly seemed to downplay his looks, so when everyone else was wearing… not the orange camp shirt and jeans, he was out of place. So maybe he overcorrected himself with more fashion forward clothes (if you consider strapless shirts, short-shorts, flower crowns and leggings fashion forward), but he somehow felt both more comfortable with himself (figured he was bi) and his cabin mates.

 

So yeah, home.


	2. The Fails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bonding moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unfortunately my co-writer left me to finish this on my own. This is a long chapter because I added a section from what I had written for chapter three.  
> //  
> PLEASE READ THIS!!!!  
> So in this chapter you meet Keith's past boyfriend (Sorry spoiler) while reading that section please picture him as Lance, the character's personality is very similar to Lance's but it is difficult to write him that way. Kyle (Keith's past bf) looks very similar and should be interpreted that way. The whole back story will be much sadder that way...

Keith leaned against a boulder and watched Cabin Six’s flag flap in the wind. The Athena cabin had had a winning streak of six weeks, much to the infuriation of every other cabin. Not that Keith cared. He didn’t even like capture the flag. He definitely didn’t understand the point of games in the midst of an _alien invasion._

 

The Athena kids always put him on flag guarding duty, because most of the kids were too scared to even try to fight him. Tonight he was _supposed_ to be paired with an Ares kid, but he had begged Keith to cover for him so he could go make out with his girlfriend. Keith liked it better that way- he worked better alone.

 

That’s why he wanted to run away. That’s why he was trying to run away the other night, before he ran into Lance and the Galra soldiers. He didn’t belong at Camp Half Blood. Every moment he spent there he was putting campers in danger.

 

Maybe he could slip away after the game ended. People would be too busy celebrating or mourning Athena’s win. No one would notice Keith disappearing. Well, Shiro would, but he would have to get over it. He could never understand why Keith _needed_ to leave.

 

Keith spotted a figure moving in and out of the trees at the edge of the clearing. There was _no way_ it could be a camper from the other team, not this early in the game. Zeus’ Fist was way back from the boundary, which was crawling with guards. Keith kneeled down so they wouldn’t see him.

 

The figure walked- no, _sauntered_ \- to the base of Zeus’ Fist and started climbing up the boulders, in no particular hurry. Keith leaned over a little more to see who it was, and his worst suspicions were confirmed. No one else in camp wore shorts _that_ tight.

 

It was Lance. Stupid, full-of-himself Lance. Somehow he had gotten past half a forest full of guards, and he didn’t look to concerned about fighting Keith either.

 

Keith stood up and made his way across the boulders until he was staring down at Lance, who was struggling to climb up to the top. Keith cleared his throat.

 

Lance glanced up at him and gave him a giant smile. “Hey hermosa. Could I see that flag over there for a moment?” Of course. Lance was trying to charmspeak him.

 

“Um, no.” Keith said.

 

Lance went slack-jawed, but quickly shook it off. He batted his eyelashes and smiled even wider. “Please? It’s so pretty. I just want to look at it. You know how Aphrodite kids are with pretty things.”

 

“Nice try,” Keith said, and brought his foot down on Lance’s fingers. Lance yelped and fell down the rock face. He landed with a groan.

 

“Oh come! On!” Lance yelled. “Of all people to be resistant to my charms, it had to be Mullet!”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Mullet! As in your hideous, outdated hairstyle. If you could even call it a _style…_ ”

 

Keith stared down at him, confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Keith turned away from the edge and started up to get next to the flag again.

 

“Wait! Mullet! Come back!”

 

“That’s not my name!” Keith yelled.

 

Keith could hear Lance attempt to climb the boulders again. “Quiznack! You really messed up my fingers, dude! If I get a hang nail, I swear to the gods…”

 

“What the fuck is a quiznack?” Keith asked.

 

Lance heaved himself over the edge of the boulder. He wasn’t carrying any weapons, so if he got to close Keith could just kick him off of the Fist again.

 

“A quiznak is a fuck.”

 

“Where are some guards when I need them?” Keith yelled, loud enough that hopefully _anybody_ would hear him. He needed a guard to take Lance prisoner. Keith could’ve done it, but he couldn’t leave his post.

 

“Aw, come on.” Lance said. “Just be a sweetie and give it to me.”

 

“What the hell are you still doing here, Lance? Your charmspeak doesn’t work and you’re unarmed. Even if you _had_ a weapon there isn’t a chance in hell that you could beat me and get the flag.”

 

Lance laughed. “Well yeah, obviously. I’m a _distraction,_ idiot.”

 

Keith whipped around to look at the flag. Where the flag used to stand was a sticky note taped to the rocks with a crudely drawn winky face on it. Keith leaped up to the highest point and scanned the edge of the forest. _Where the hell did he put his horn?_

Keith spotted movement to the north. Whoever stole the flag must’ve been making an arc around the clearing to clear the creek at a place with fewer guards. Keith should’ve signaled somebody on his side that the flag was gone, but he didn’t have time. He could take them by himself.

 

Keith dropped off of Zeus’ Fist, tucking and rolling into a run. They didn’t stand a chance against Keith, especially with it this dark out. The shadows were Keith’s friends.

Before Keith could make it to the forest, however, a body slammed into him. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.

 

Lance scrambled so that he had Keith pinned to the ground with one knee. “Oh, sorry, were you going somewhere?”

 

Keith struggled to catch his breath. He fumbled for the hilt of his sword, but it wasn’t dark enough. He needed to get to the shadows.

 

“Aw, is wittle Mullet having trouble? What was it that you said again… even if I had a weapon, there was no chance in hell I could beat you and get away with the flag?” Lance laughed, making Keith’s insides burn. He hated this guy more and more every minute.

 

Lance stood up and offered Keith a hand. Keith swatted it away and stood up, taking off running towards the forest.

 

As soon as he was under tree cover, Keith drew his sword. He still had time. He could cut through the forest and get to the place in the creek he knew they would try to cross. He could hear the babble of water through the trees. Keith found himself running faster, fueled by his frustration at Lance and the game as a whole. He was going to win this.

 

He caught sight of a flash of grey fabric. The flag. He was right about where the camper was headed. His feet hit the ground near the creek and he readied his blade.

 

Then silence. No camper came charging out of the woods.

 

It didn’t make sense _._ Keith _knew_ he saw a camper running this way- he knew he saw the flag.

 

The conch horn rang in the distance- signaling the end of the game.

 

\--

 

He couldn’t understand how so much had gone wrong. He had done a flawless job of guarding the flag for six weeks, handling anything the other team could throw at him. Even with Lance charmspeaking the rest of Keith’s team, he should’ve been able to handle it. The flag was _right behind him._ How much of that did Lance plan?

 

Keith angrily shifted his pack onto his back. It didn’t matter. He’d be gone soon anyways.

 

He slipped out of the Hades cabin and into the woods. With all luck he wouldn’t run into any monsters, Galra, or annoying teenagers this time around. Keith trudged through the forest, holding branches to the side with his sword. Once he left camp he was going to head for New Mexico. Maybe there, in the middle of the desert, he might manage to find a little peace and quiet. After that, who knows. Maybe he’ll leave America. Maybe he’ll be killed by monsters.

Keith leaped over the creek and glanced back at it. The woods had been his favorite part of camp. No matter how much the world changed, nature never really did. The creek looked the exact same as it had in 1862. Sure, it was five feet over to the west, and smaller, but it was the same creek one hundred and fifty years later. Keith had lived at camp for three months before Coran had sent him to spy on the Romans. Romans and Greeks both were wary of him because Keith was a son of Hades. Ha, if only they knew.

 

People really didn’t change that much either. Different names, different clothes, different wars, but they were the same.

 

In the corner of his eye, Keith caught a flicker of movement. He backed behind a tree and readied his sword. A figure kneeled down over the creek, staring into the depths of the water. Keith moved silently from tree to tree, keeping an eye on the crouching figure. When he got closer he realised that it was a human- a demigod. Then he realised that it was Lance.

 

Keith didn’t stop to wonder as to what the son of Aphrodite was doing in the woods in the middle of the night. All he could focus on was _not_ kicking Lance into the water. That would be unnecessarily cruel. He would just sneak up on him, and if he happened to fall in the water, so be it.

 

But as soon as Keith got close to Lance’s turned back, he found himself flat on the ground. Lance held a knee to his chest, a mirror of their position just earlier that night.

 

“Hey cutie, what are you doing here?” Lance asked, tilting his head a little to the side.

 

“I could ask you the same question,” Keith said.

“Well I could ask you the same thing,” Lance said mimicking.

 

“Get the fuck off of me, Lance.” Keith was having a hard time keeping his cool with a guy kneeling on his chest and calling him ‘cutie’. He just needed to get out of here.

 

“Seriously what are you doing- OH! Here to make out with girlfriend?” Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

 

“Lance.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’m not here to make out with my girlfriend.”

 

“Yeah, with your… what ever this is,” Lance gestured to Keith’s face. “I doubt you could get a girlfriend.”

 

“That. Or maybe I’m just gay,” Keith said as snarky as he could. Lance’s face shifted like he was taking mental notes.

 

“OH. Cool coool, coolcool… cool.”

 

“Lance?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Get the hell off of me.”

 

“Ah, yes, sorry,” Lance fumbled to get off of Keith. Keith swore he could see him blushing.

 

Keith stood, brushing the dirt off of him. “Whatever, dude,” he said, stalking off into the woods. “Have fun being weird in the forest.”

 

“Wait! Where are you going? What are you doing here?” Lance said, planting himself in Keith’s path.

“I’m leaving.”

 

“Leaving… then coming back?”

“Nope. Leaving. Disappearing. Never to be seen again.”

 

Lance looked personally offended. “Why? I- Why? If it’s because you’re the only gay person, you’re not, they’re Eric and Sam… and er....,” Lance rambled. “You don’t see me running away- I mean I’ve considered it, a few times,” Lance continued, waving his arms in the air to add emphasis to his words.

 

“That has nothing to do with it.”

 

“Oh. Why?”

“For one? Most of the kids in this camp are scared of me because I’m a son of Hades. I’m the creepy loner of who sits off to the sidelines. I work better alone and I’ll be better off that way.”

 

“Yeah, same… not really, I can’t relate at all. Todo el mundo me ama.”

 

“Yeah. You don’t get it. So go back to camp before you get yourself killed by a monster.”

 

“Yeah, no. I’ve taken on the challenge of staying out all night without dying, and I’m doing just fine. Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me reaplying my eyeliner.”

 

It was like every time Lance spoke he lost brain cells. “How the hell is eyeliner supposed to protect you from monster venom? Or claws? And for the love of the gods, _where_ is your weapon?” Keith spat.

 

“I think I took you down pretty well _without_ a weapon.”

 

Keith grasped for a good comeback and failed. “Well, you- I didn’t have my- oh, fuck you.”

 

“If you want to,” Lance snickered. “Didn’t realize I was your type- who am I kidding, I’m everyone’s type.”

 

Keith shoved past Lance. He kept letting himself get caught up in these stupid arguments when he couldn’t afford to let Lance rile him up even a bit. He needed to focus and get out of camp before the harpies found them. He was surprised they hadn’t already.

“Wait! I’m sorry, that was out of line. Don’t go,” Lance said, grabbing the edge of Keith’s shirt.

 

“Why exactly do you care what I do? I bet you don’t even remember my name.”

 

“I… uh, no.”

 

Keith laughed. “Thought so. Later, Lance McClain.” He tried to pull his jacket from Lance’s grasp, but Lance held firm.

 

“So, maybe not everyone likes you, but that doesn’t mean you should go. I didn’t belong here once, I wasn’t claimed, I was alone and bullied… _a lot_ .” Lance said. ”But I stayed because I knew _someday_ I would belong.” Lance tugged Keith closer, blush itched on Keith’s cheek. “And look where I am now. Using a river as a mirror to apply make up, okay bad example.” Lance released Keith. “Camp is my home, and it should be yours too.”

 

“Why do you care?” Keith asked again.

 

“I… I don’t know, I just do, okay? Give it another week. Maybe you’ll see something you didn’t before.”

 

Keith sighed and looked up at the night sky. He’d rather a harpy came down and plucked him away than have this conversation. “Fine. I’ll leave in a week. Are you happy?”

 

Lance crossed his arms like he had won. “muy.”

 

Keith knew it wouldn’t make a difference. If one hundred and fifty years didn’t change anything, a week wouldn’t either.

 

“I guess I’ll walk you back?”

 

* * *

 

Lance walked Mullet back to his cabin, not because he wanted to, but because it was on the way back to Lance’s cabin.

 

After Keith had walked back into his cabin and closed the door, Lance had a sudden realization. “Shi- I still don’t know his name.” Lance realized he spoke out loud. Lance began walking back over to his cabin, irritated with himself.

 

Lance entered the Aphrodite cabin only to have Mel shove a stopwatch in his face. “28 minutes, really?” Mel said, pointing a hand on her hip. “That is pathetic.”

 

“I- I almost died, I had to come back.”

 

“What really happened?”

 

“Nothing, hey random, completely of topic question,” Lance sat on his bunk cross legged. “Who are the newest campers? Like the ones that came while I was away?”

 

“Um… why?”

 

“Just curious, no real reason.”

 

“Fine,” Mel, sat on the bunk across from Lance, next to another one of Lance’s sisters, Anna. “Well, there’s Shiro, he’s cool.” The cabin nodded in agreement. “Son of Zeus-”

 

“Anyone else?” Lance leaned forward.

 

“Nyma, daughter of-”

 

“Next.”

 

“What is this? A game show?”

 

“Just want to get through them quickly.”

 

“Fine,” Mel rolled her eyes. “Rolo, he’s like seven feet tall-”

 

“Next.”

 

“Can you get any ruder?”

 

“Yes,” Lance said sarcastically. “Now, who else.”

 

“Um…” Mel looked around them room. “Keith? Son of Hades, came like literally right after you left. He has long black hair and is ridiculously attractive, like more than you.” Mel muttered under her breath, “Not too hard though.”

 

“Escuché eso.” Lance pulled a pillow into his lap, hugging it. “So Hades broke the promise?”

 

“No, I’m pretty sure he’s not from this century,” Mel said. “I tried to ask him about it, but he was nose deep in a book,” Mel giggled. “I bet he secretly reads romance novels, he can’t be emo _all_ the time.”

 

“Really, I thought it was his diary,” Anna snickered. “Probs where he writes about his secret crush on some girl.”

 

Lance muttered under his breath, “Not likely, since he’s gay.”

 

A boy across the cabin laughed. “He’s _gay_?” he high fived the boy next to him. “Called it!”

 

Mel tossed a pillow at them. “No way _he’s_ gay. And Lance-” Mel turned. “How would you know?”

 

“Um… my gaydar?”

 

“BS, no such thing, how do you really know?”

 

“Well maybe he told me- wait, why are you all up so late?” The cabin stayed silent for a minute. As the head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, it was Lance’s job to tell them to be to bed. Everyone quickly pulled a blanket over their heads. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

 

\--

 

Lance woke before anyone else, which was uncommon. He was a strong believer in beauty sleep (ranging from 9-12 hours). He continued laying in bed, thinking. There were plenty of things to think about; his sister, what to wear, how to win capture the flag again, how to stop the Galra from taking anyone else, how to keep Keith from leaving. No matter how many times he tries changing the subject in his brain he kept coming back to Keith.

Not that he wanted to think about Keith. He just… wanted to keep him from leaving. There were no other motives, none at all. Keith was part of the Camp Half Blood family, and as a camp counselor it was his duty to make him feel welcome.

 

By the time his siblings had awoken, Lance had thought of 3 plans.

 

  1. The welcome party. The camp throws him a welcome party to make him feel more at home. All the decor will be black and everyone can dress like death.
  2. Kidnap him.
  3. Give him a real reason to stay.



 

Lance decided that giving Keith a real reason to stay was the best plan. But what was a real reason…

 

Lance tossed his blanket off of himself and got dressed.

 

Lance stepped out into the sunlight of the morning. He was wearing a loose teal shoulderless shirt, with a darker blue tank top and a long sleeve (also shoulderless) shirt with an ombre of purples underneath. He also wore shorts above purple ombre leggings (which matched his undershirt). His boots itched at his knees, the brown leather was a little bland, but Lance liked them.

 

Lance stood outside his cabin, watching people half-heartedly walk to the pavilion.

 

“Hey Lance!” A voice behind him said, Lance jumped a foot in the air. He turned to see Pide standing on the other side of the patio. “You’re more jumpy than Hunk.”

 

“You’re the one who snuck up on me,” Lance growled.

 

Pidge’s hair looked like a cow had licked the side of their head, the bags under their eyes darker than normal. They still had their pajamas on.

 

“You look…” They looked him down. “Nice?”

 

“I always look nice, Pidge,” Lance walked toward them. “I can’t look that different.”

 

“You’re wearing…” Pidge looked him down again. “What the _Hell_ are you wearing?”

 

“Clothes, same as you.”

 

“No, You’re wearing… that. Have you seen Allura?”

 

“I like it. No not since yesterday.”

 

“It’s weird. That’s not like her.”

 

“Well I like it. She did have to stay in the infirmary overnight”

 

“Can we stop talking about your clothes?”

 

“Yes,” Lace said starting to walk to the picnic tables. “So if she did spend the night in the infirmary then she’s probably fine.”

 

“Yeah, I’m just over thinking this-”

 

“ _Gallinero_ , you always overthink things.”

 

The mess hall was already crowded with enough people to be an army, which they technically were at times. There was a table for every cabin, and nearly every seat was taken. Lance said bye to Pidge and took his seat next to Mel.

 

“Morning sandia!” he punched Mel in the arm.

 

“You know I hate when you call me that,” Mel punched him back. “It’s not even close to my name.”

 

“Se llama español, sandía.”

 

Mel spoke in a terrible spanish accent. “No hablo espanyolo.”

 

“Anyway,” Lance tossed a chip in Mel’s face. “Um… random question, have you seen either Allura or Keith?”

 

“I saw Allura leave the infirmary this morning and Keith…” Mel turned. “Why do care about Keith? You seemed oddly interested in him last night, you going to-” Mel elbowed him, “Make a move?” Mel wiggled her eyebrows.

 

“No,” Lance tried not to blush. He knew he wasn’t attracted to Keith in anyway way, but having his sister put him on the spot made him embarrassed. “He kinda saved my life so I wanted to thank him… that’s it.”

 

“Yeah no,” Mel pick up the chip that Lance had tossed. “I know my brother, and _my_ brother wouldn’t go out of his way to talk to an attractive guy unless he had a hella of a crush on him.”

 

One of the most annoying things about being bi (or gay) is that once you come out, everyone and their second cousin start to think that you like them. And what they don’t know is that some people actually have standards. So on the often occasion that Lance so much as talked to a guy, Mel (or Pidge, or Allura, or anyone and their second cousin) would immediately think he had a crush on the guy (less often with a girl).

 

“Ugh, you say that _every time_ , sandia.”

 

“And I’m often right, and stop calling me that!”

 

“One time, one quiznaking time!”  

 

Attractive ≠ attraction. It’s a fairly simple equation, just because Lance found Keith slightly (less than slightly really) attractive, in no way means he’s attracted to Keith.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Fine two times, but that doesn’t mean I like him,” Lance scanned the benches for Allura.

 

“Okay.”

 

Lance spotted Allura right by the cabins. Her wavy white hair was pulled up into a loose bun, strands tickling her neck like spider’s legs. Lance stood up, jogging over, the dirt crunching under his feet. She looked up from a book, her eyebrows tightly knitted together.

 

“Allura!” Lance yelled. Allura winced, looking like she had been through a tornado. Her eyes exhausted, her nose red. “Woah, you okay?”

 

“No,” She walked over to Lance, using him as a brace. “I was doing fine till I saw Keith, then I got another headache-”

 

“That _jerk_ ,” Lance hissed. “He must be using magic to hurt you, when I get my hands on that _fideos flácidos_ -”

 

“He’s not doing anything, it’s the mist.”

 

“I’ll fight him, I’ll fight him right here, right now!”

 

“Cool it, It’s not his fault remember?”

 

“What?”

 

“Everytime I see Keith, I get a migraine, and before you saw anything rude in Spanish, it’s not his fault,” Allura looked around for a second. “You seen Pidge?”

 

“At their table, probably being worshiped by their followers.”

 

“Sounds like them.”

 

* * *

 

Keith trudged over to the Zeus table. He really, really didn’t want to have this conversation.

 

But he needed to. He owed Shiro at least that much. Keith kept replaying the scene in his mind.

 

It was three years ago. In the winters, Shiro left camp and worked as a construction worker. He went all over the US, wherever he was needed. His crew was breaking ground to build a series of condos in east Texas. Shiro found Keith buried six feet underground, completely made out of gold. Luckily for Keith, none of the other workers saw him. And luckily for Keith, Shiro recognised Midas’ handiwork immediately.

 

Keith regained consciousness soaking wet, sitting in a hole in the ground in east Texas, in a confederate uniform and with a note tied to his wrist.

 

Shiro had brought him back to camp and eased him into the 21st Century. Shiro never asked about the note. He had been like a brother to Keith. As a son of Zeus, he understood what it was like to be all alone in a big empty cabin. Not to mention he was a real-life hero. When he was a teenager, he did things like fight titans and carry the weight of the sky on his back (still has the white streaks in his hair). He had two summer beads completely dedicated to his adventures. People at camp liked to tell the stories of his battles- each time there would be a shorter deadline, more monsters, more lightning bolts thrown from the tips of his fingers. Keith had worshipped him.

 

Shiro smiled when he saw Keith approach. He was eating yogurt and a disgusting-looking smoothie concoction. Keith had gotten over his Shiro fanboy phase. In reality, past all the heroism, Shiro was kind of a wreck. He was terrified of battle, and more terrified of his own powers. Not that he’d let that hold him back from saving the day. He didn’t let other people see that side of him.

 

If Shiro could trust him with his fears, Keith could trust Shiro with all of this.

 

“Hey, Shiro.” Invisible wind spirits placed a bowl of Fruit Loops and an orange soda in front of Keith.

 

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “That’ll kill you faster than any monster.”

 

“What? It’s got fruit. _Fruit_ Loops. _Orange_ soda.”

 

He shook his head and gave up. “We had a pretty hard loss last night. I assume you’re not taking it well.”

 

No. No he wasn’t. Not that Shiro was going to know. “I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“Oh? What?”

 

“I’m leaving Camp Half Blood. Probably for good.”

 

Shiro’s face fell. He looked like he was having trouble processing what Keith had said. “You’re… leaving? Why?”

 

“I don’t fit in. The other campers are scared of me. I’m not like everybody else. We both know something is seriously wrong with me. It’s better if I get out of here before I...”

 

“Is that what this is about? Are the urges getting worse?”

 

 _Urges._ That’s what Shiro called them. Sometimes, when Keith got angry, he’d just go off. He’d rip apart monsters like they were nothing. The campers who had seen it happen looked afraid afterwards. They called it _animalistic._

 

Keith knew that people could look past him being from the past. They could look past the _gay_ thing. They could even look past the Hades thing, if they tried hard enough.

 

But something about Keith’s brain was just seriously fucked up. He got angry at little things and when he did he couldn’t control himself. He’d been like that since he was a kid. There was something _dark_ inside of him.

 

And Shiro was right. They were getting worse. Keith must have done something seriously terrible in his past life to get stuck with all this terrible luck.

 

Then, as if on cue, Keith’s luck got worse. Lance appeared at his side. “Hi Keith! Hey Shiro! Keith, you should hang out with me today. I’ve made a schedule so that we can go to every single activity possible today. You never know. Maybe you’ll find your calling in underwater basket weaving.”

 

Keith rubbed his temple. “Lance. I’ve been a camper since I was _six._ I’ve done every damned thing this camp has to offer.”

 

Lance’s eyes widened. “What? I thought you had only been here for a year or two!”

 

“Yup.”

 

Shiro looked between the two of them. “Wait, how does Lance know you’re leaving?”

 

Keith pushed his bowl of Fruit Loops to the side so he could lay his head down. He _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation. “He caught me sneaking away last night.”

 

“You were going to leave without telling me? Or anyone?”

 

Keith was thankful that he couldn’t see Shiro’s expression through his hair curtain.

 

“He _was,_ but I told him I wouldn’t let him leave until he gave it another week.” Lance said. Keith heard him sit on top of the table. “Keith, wow, what a nutritious breakfast.”

 

At least Keith was eating. You had to give him points for that.

 

“Thank you, Lance, for convincing him. That means a lot to me,” Shiro said. Keith was tempted to will the earth to swallow him whole.

“Anytime. You ready to go, Keith?”

 

\--

 

It was the winter of 1863. A snowstorm had immobilized the troop. Soldiers spent their time cutting wood and relaxing. Not a person in the camp was anxious to go back into battle. That afternoon men were having a snowball fight in the field near camp- thinly disguised as ‘training’.

Keith sat out. Him and Kyle snuck off to an empty tent to sit by a fire and play cards. Kyle was stretched out across a blanket, face scrunched up as he considered his cards.

 

“Are you going to play, or simply glare at your hand until a better one appears in its  place?” Keith said.

 

Kyle pouted and put down his cards. “I’m not enjoying this game any more.”

 

“That’s because you’re losing.”

 

“Ah, shut up,” he said, and grabbed Keith’s shirt, tugging him closer. Keith abandoned his cards on the ground. He nestled himself in Kyle’s arms, listened to his heart beat. “When this is over, I’m going to start up a soupery.”

 

“A soupery?”

 

“A place where soup is made. Not soup like Cook makes, though, real soup. With veggies and spices and whatnot. Great soups. Soups good enough that I’ll be a famous souperer.”

 

Keith laughed. “You’re making up words now.”

 

“It’s real! It’s a real word! Anyways, the King will beg me to come to England and make him my soup. I’ll be a rich man, and I’ll buy you a fancy silver watch with my soup money.”

 

“So you’ll be a famous souperer, and I’ll have a fancy silver watch.” Keith wouldn’t mind living like that. “What will you say when people ask about the handsome foreign man you drag along on your soup travels, and shower with splendid riches?”

 

“I’ll say, ‘that’s Keith, I keep him around to laugh at my jokes’.”

 

“And they’ll say ‘better him than me, if somebody has to do it’.”

 

Kyle looked offended. “I’ll have you know, many consider me to be absolutely hilarious.”

 

Keith watched Kyle’s jaw move as he talked. He listened to the way he spoke, the subtle stutter. Keith pushed upward and kissed kyle on the cheek, then nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding the rapidly spreading blush.

 

“Aw, babe, you’re cute when you’re flustered…” Kyle’s hand threaded through Keith’s hair.

 

“S-shut up!”

 

 


	3. The Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance sets out on a personal quest to keep Keith at camp... but technically ends up doing the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY I FINISHED THIS! I have been really procrastinating some of my fan fictions, so you guys won't be seeing udates as much.

* * *

 

So as it turns out, Keith was worse at using a bow and arrow than Lance.

 

Lance snickered as he watched Keith fail at aligning the arrow on the bow, the arrow falling several times.

 

“This is impossible, Lance, there is no way in Hell I’ll be able to hit that hay bale!” Keith yelled at Lance.

 

“You see, I’d do that whole clique romantic gesture thing, you know where I put my arms around you to ‘help’,” Lance used air quotes. “But I can’t do crap with a bow, sooo… you’re on your own.”

 

“What about a hair bow?” Keith released the string, the arrow missing the target by a measly 12 feet.

 

“I rock hair bows,  _Keith_ ,” Lance stood and walked over to Keith, who had knocked another arrow. Lance lifted Keith’s elbow, trying to touch him as little as possible.

 

“So you learned my name?” Keith shut one eye, sticking out his tongue. “Took you a while.” He released the bow, the arrow nearly hitting the target.

 

“Had to, figured I couldn’t yell McMullet every-” Lance tried to adjust Keith’s posture. “Stand a little straighter.”

 

“We both know I can’t be straight,” Keith finally had an arrow hit the inside of the target.

 

“Was that- Did you- Oh my gods, you just said a joke! Oh my gods!” Lance jumped back, pulling Keith with him. Keith yelped, toppling over, his quiver falling of his back. Keith made no attempt to stop the impact. “OH! Sorry Keith!” Lance scrambled back over, barely helping Keith back onto his feet.

 

“Thanks, but-” Keith tossed down the bow in his hand. “I think I’m done with the bow, not my thing.”

 

“Nonsense, You’re doing fine, try a new angle.”

 

“Fine,  _Lance_ ,” Keith didn’t pick the bow back up. Instead he pulled back on an invisible bow, mimicking the movements that he would be using on the real thing. Lance’s eyes widened, a thin black, arrow like line of darkness formed between Keith’s hands. The air around the black arrow appeared to be pulled and stretched, like the darkness was coming straight from it.

 

_Shadows._

 

Keith was controlling the shadows, taking the shade as forcing it into a arrow.

 

Keith released his grip, the black arrow flying straight at the bull’s eye, messily painted onto a hay bail. The arrow exploded on impact, sending shards of darkness in all directions. Lance covered his face, trying to keep the shrapnel from hitting his face. Lance relaxed for a second, removing his hands from his face.

 

The hay around the bull’s eyes was shriveled and… black.

 

Lance looked at Keith. His eyes dark and narrow, full of hate. Suddenly Lance felt a little more than terrified.

 

“You know what?” Lance squeaked. “I don’t think bow and arrows are your thing either… Canoeing?”

 

Keith’s eyes softened. “I’d rather not.”

 

“Naw, come on.”

 

“ _Naw_ , I’m good.”

 

“Come on, let’s go.”

 

“Please stop using your sharm speak on me,” Keith snapped. “It doesn’t work!”

 

“Lake it is!”

 

“Lake it is,” Keith replied deadpan.

 

\--

 

The canoe lake was a fairly decent sized lake, with more than enough room for a dock a dozen canoes. The water was an emerald green, deep and satisfying to watch. Lance and Keith dragged a canoe to the edge of the water, the tip dipping into the lake. Keith seemed hesitant to get into the canoe.

 

“Maybe I should get a life vest-”

 

“Nonsense, let’s go!” Lance pushed Keith into the canoe, he landed on his butt, arms and legs dangling out.

 

“Lance I can’t-” Water splashed Keith as Lance pulled them into the lake. Keith squeaked, pulling himself fully into the boat, his eyes darting around.

 

Lance jumped into the front of the canoe, splashing water in with him. “Onward!” the canoe swayed back and forth, Lance looked back at Keith, who had turned a green color. “Weak,” Lance muttered under his breath.

 

Lance sat down, using a paddle to stop the swaying. He began paddling toward the middle of the lake, trying not to splash any water at Keith. The reflection of the sun bounced off of the lake surface and danced in Lance’s eyes.

 

In a smooth motion, Lance rotated, now facing Keith. “You look green,” Lance snickered. “Not your color.”

 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m getting dressed,” Keith gagged.

 

“You should wear red,” Lance said without thinking. “...would suit you.”

 

Lance leaned back, resting his head on the bow. He closed his eyes, enjoying the drifting of the canoe. He let his mind wander.

 

“I thought we were going to… canoe?”

 

“Thought you needed a break…”

 

“I did, thanks…”

 

After a couple of minutes, Lance sat up. Keith was lying down in the bottom of the canoe, eyes shut, a quiet snoring noise left his mouth. Lance figured Keith didn’t like the water, but somehow he seemed to relax. Keith’s hair twitched with the wind.

 

Lance stood up, trying not to knock over the canoe. He pulled off his shirt, leaning over the side.

 

_Please don’t ruin my pants._

 

And Lance jumped in.

 

\--

 

In hindsight, Lance should have realized that the momentum of the jump would flip the canoe. But Lance wasn’t a son of Athena, so this wasn’t what he was thinking about when he jumped. His first thought was about his clothes, his second thought was why is someone screaming?

 

Keith, Keith was screaming.

 

Lance’s head bobbed to the surface, eyes locking with flipped canoe.

 

“ _Mierda_ …”

 

Lance lazily swam over to the flipped boat, he halfheartedly tried to turn it rightside up. It took him a moment to realize what was wrong.

 

“Keith?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Keith?!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Keith!!”

 

Nothing.

 

“KEITH!”

 

Lance panicked. “ _Mierda_ ,” he dived into the water, his eyes scanning the murky water for Keith. A steady stream of bubbles ran over his face. He resurfaced, gasping for air. There was still no sign of Keith above the surface.

 

_I killed Keith!_

 

He dived back down, holding his breath, letting no air past his lips. His hands ran over algae growing on the bottom of the lake. His eyes darted around, desperately trying to locate Keith. The lake water stung his eyes. Lance ran out of breath, he used the ground to launch him back to the surface. Water splashed over his face, Lance coughed up water. He pulled the algae from behind his ear.

 

“KEITH!”

 

Lance was scared. No. He was more than scared, he was terrified. His breaths were short, his hands shivered, his eyes darted around, scanning the water. Lance finally caught his breath, he started to think clearly. The ripples of the water calmed him, it reminded his of this hypnotic thing Pidge had done to him once.

 

_Pidge..._

 

_What would Pidge do?_

 

It was a simple answer: analyze and evaluate the situation, then take a step back.

 

_Keith is under water. He can’t swim. He’s probably running out of air-_

 

_Air!_

 

The bubbles on Lance’s face! Lance swam over to the canoe, a bubble popped.

 

_He’s telling me where he is!_

 

Lance dived down, hands waving wildly. The bubbles stopped coming, Lance kicked harder, reaching the lake floor faster. His head spun around trying to spot Keith, but the water was too murky, too dark, too-

 

As if like magic (which it kinda was) Lance  _felt_ Keith. Not physically, but he suddenly knew where Keith was. Lance lunged a few feet to the left, the water clearing up. And there, laying on the bottom of the lake, was Keith.

 

Keith’s back was arched, his arms and legs floating aimlessly in the still murky water. His hair drifted with the current. His clenched fists relaxed, sand dripping from the palm of his hand. Algae wrapped around Keith’s chest, like it was pulling his down.

 

Air escaped from Lance in the excitement of finding Keith.

 

_Dios, he can’t breath!_

 

Lance swam over as fast as he could. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, ripping the algae. He kicked off of the ground, shooting toward the surface, Keith limply draped over his shoulder.

 

The first thing he did when he felt air touch his face was check Keith’s pulse. Lance panicked more when he only felt a weak heartbeat.

 

“Oh  _dios_ ,” Lance put his hand under Keith’s nose. “You’re not breathing.”

 

The shore was a fair distance away, but for some reason, Lance began swimming. He reached the shore in under a minute. He dragged Keith onto the the sand. Lance checked his pulse again.

 

_Mierda, no pulse._

 

And then it hit him. “ _Mierda_ , I’m supposed to do CPR now.” Lance tilted Keith’s head back, slightly opening his mouth. “Chest compressions, right-” He laced his fingers together, pressing hard on Keith’s chest. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5-” He muttered. Lance leaned over Keith’s head, his lips hovering a few inches over Keith’s. He blinked. Lance pulled back. “Yeah, that’s not happening,” He laced his fingers again, pressing harder on Keith’s chest. “1… 2… 3…”

 

Lance continued trying to get Keith to cough up the water in his lungs, panting with ever compression.

 

“ _Dios!_ ” Lance checked Keith’s pulse, still nothing, “There is no way you will be able to last any longer, you need-” Lance took a sharp breath in, he pressed his lips against Keith’s, he exhaled. He went back to doing chest compressions. “  _Dios_ , you’re going to hate me for this-” Leaning over Keith he adjusting his head again. He took another deep breath, pressing his lips against Keith’s again, he exhaled sharply.

 

Keith’s eyes shot open. He rolled over, coughing up water.

 

“You’re alive!” Lance hugged Keith, squeezing him harder than he should have.

 

“No thanks to you…” Keith coughed down Lance’s neck.

 

“No, thanks to me, you  _are_ alive.,” Lance pouted.

 

“Sure,” Keith stopped coughing, his breathing steading.

 

“Dude,” Lance almost shouted. “You can’t swim?”

 

“I tried to tell you.”

 

“No, no you didn’t-”

 

“Yes, yes I did,” Keith punched Lance in his solar plexus. Lance curled over in pain.

 

“ _Mierda!_ Ow! That is not the way to treat your savior-”

 

“How the  _Hell_ did you save me?”

 

“CPR!” Lance screamed at Keith. “I could have left you to die.”

 

Keith’s eyes widened. He darted to the water, he shoved his head into the lake. A gurgling noise filled the air. Keith pulled his head out, he used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his mouth. “CPR! As in mouth to mouth, like kissing, but not kissing?” Keith choked on the word ‘kissing’.

 

“Yes, and no. CPR as in mouth to mouth and chest compressions, not kissing. I was trying to keep your blood circulating, and trying to get oxygen to your brain, so your heart could start working-”

 

“So  _your_ mouth touched  _my_ mouth?”

 

“Yes, so you could live!”

 

“No offense, but I rather die,” Keith spat.

 

“Well excuuUUUuuuUUuuse me, princess,” Lance exaggerated. They stared at eachother for a moment. “We should get you to the infirmary, to make sure you’re okay.”

 

“Dude you almost drowned me and your first thought is to get me to the infirmary?”

 

“Well my first thought was, hey look Keith is still alive!”

 

\--  
  


Keith was fine. More or less.

 

The first time Lance tried visiting (more of a check up) Keith expressed a strong displeasure to it and punched Lance in the face. The second time, Lance brought flowers (in no way romantically) but the Apollo campers decided that him and Keith in the same room was deadly.

 

Lance kicked a rock as he walk away from the Big-house, a familiar voice shouted ‘Ow”. Lance looked up to see Coran, with his hand over his eye. Coran stood several feet over him. He had red-orange horse legs (as centaurs often do) and a wicked moustache.

 

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man!” Lance shouted, trying not to sound like a kiss-up.

 

“You hit me in the eye, Lance,” Coran trotted over to Lance. “Not cool.”

 

“Sorry, Coran,” Lance apologized. “I was distracted.”

 

Coran’s eyes drifted down to the flowers in Lance’s hands. “Courting gone wrong?”

 

Lance raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Wha-” Lance looked at the flowers. “Oh! No, I kinda almost drowned Keith, so I got him flowers, no romantic purposes at all.”

 

“You… almost…  _ drowned  _ Keith?”

 

“Yeah, stupid really-”

 

“Not at all. I had may courting failures in my days. There was this one time with a Kaltenecker-”

 

“I’m not courting anyone, especially not  _ Keith _ ,” Lance interrupted.

 

“Oh yes, right,” Coran pouted. “Why so glum?”

 

To be honest, Lance was still upset about his sister. Not Mel, she was just dandy. He missed Sophie. He missed her smile. He missed her hugs. He missed her charm speaking him into jumping into the lake. Lance knew that he  _ should  _ be upset, but, Lance somehow seemed a little more upset since the lake incident. 

 

“I miss Sophie, I just wish I could help her somehow,” Lance said. “I-”

 

“A prophecy is what you need!”

 

“A  _ prophecy _ ? Now?”

 

“Not  _ right  _ now, but at the camp fire!” Coran announced, his his fore legs kicked into the air.

 

“Is now really the best time for a quest? With the Galra practically breathing down our necks?”

 

“YES!”

 

\--

 

1863

 

“Soldiers! Prepare for battle!”

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Camp fires were by far the best part of Camp Half Blood. They were a great excuse for Lance to show of his wicked pipes in front of a fabulous audience. Fifty plus campers steadily streamed into the Amphitheater. Lance took his seat next to Mel, along with the other Aphrodite campers.

 

“The oracle here yet?” 

 

“Why would the oracle be here?” Mel questioned.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

Coran started the campfire like any other. He went those the events of the day, then the plans for tomorrow. There really wasn’t anything exciting, or maybe Lance was too busy trying to spot the oracle.

 

“-ance?” Mel said as Lance realized the amphitheater was too quiet.

 

“What?”

 

“Coran asked you to come down, Lance.”

 

Lance slowly stood up, confused at first, but then he remembered the quest. He walked down the amphitheater steps, he smiled at Allura when he passed he, and subtlely flipped Pidge off (Who did the same back to him). When he saw Keith he mouthed, “Sorry” at him, Keith rolled his eyes in response.

 

“I think a prophecy is in order, am I right Lance?”

 

“Yes, sir, a quest to-”

 

“A quest to kill the Galra!”

 

Lance choked up. “A-all the Galra?” Lance slightly whimpered. “I thought his was to rescue prisoners.”   

  
  


“Rescue prisoners and Kill all the Galra! ORACLE!”

 

The oracle walked out, she was a thin girl with multicolored hair and shells dangling from her waist.

 

_ Plaxum. _

 

Plaxum was by far the prettiest girl in the amphitheater by far. Her blue-green hair reminded Lance of a mermaid, and the seaweed and shells only added to this thought. She wore a teal dress with a pink shawl. 

 

Plaxum stood next to Lance, who was failing to keep his blushing under control.

 

“Right a proph-” Plaxum started was was interrupted but herself. She gasped.  Her eyes glowing, fog forming at her feet. Her voice was raspy. “T wo owls and a dove- A lightning strike from up above- Goats legs and unclaimed- Five weapons to fight the Union shamed- Son of Galra, son of death- Takes the enemy’s final breath.” Plaxum gasped for air again, falling to her knees.

 

Lance scratched his chin, curious with the lines of the prophecy. The audience muttered. No one spoke for a few minutes.

 

“I- I think I’m the dove…” Lance said, trying to seem confident.

 

“That would make sense, yes,” Coran replied.

 

Pidge stood hesitantly, they raised their hand. “Owl.”

 

Hunk and Allura both stood, “Goat legs and unclaimed.”

 

Shiro followed shortly. “Lightning…”

 

“Great that just leaves…” Coran started.

 

_ Son of Death. _

 

Everyone turned to face Keith, who was sitting in the first row, trying to blend into the shadows. His knee bounced up and down, his fingers strumming the spine of a book. “No way of getting out of this…” Keith muttered. He stood walking over to Lance, slightly raising his hand. “Son of Death,” Lance looked at Keith, who wasn’t quite looking him in the eyes.

 

“Great, then the quest is set!”

 

“Wait,” Lance said. “It said two owls-”

 

“Screech owl, Hades sacred animal,” Keith interrupted

 

“S’MORES FOR EVERYONE!” Coran exclaimed, tossing a few dozen marshmallows into the amphitheater.

 

Lance wasn’t in the mood.

 

Lance found himself sitting in the back of the Amphitheater, staring up at the stars. He used a log as a headrest; too tired to keep his eyes open, too interested in the sky to close them. Lance let his mind wander. He thought of what could happen on the quest, what could happen to him… what could happen to others.

 

“-ey,” A voice said just out of his view, Lance snapped back to reality. He pulled himself back into a sitting position. His eyes met with the tall son of Zeus. “You’re not lookin’ so good.”

 

“I’m a son of Aphrodite, I always look good, Shiro,” Lance spat, angrier than he had originally intended.

 

“Sorry,” Shiro started, leaning forward. “I meant, you seem off.”

 

“And what would off entail for me?”

 

“Not cheerful,” Shiro said, trying to not sound dead on the inside. “Something happen?”

 

“Nooooo,” Lance said, tossing his hands in the air sarcastically. “I just found out that my sister has been taken by the Galra, then almost drowned Keith, and  _ then,  _ got called on a mission- that probably will kill me, I might add! Sorry, if I seem a  _ little  _ out of character!” Lance let out a puff of hot air, he crossed him arms, irritated with his own rage.

 

“Didn’t mean to push any buttons,” Shiro pushed a little further. “But even I know that when Lance Mcclain if feeling down, he acts more cheerful and optimistic.” 

 

Lance’s eyes scanned the smoky air, like he was surveying invisible equations.  He took a minute, then licked his bottom lip. “I’m that easy to read?” His eyebrows knitted together.

 

“No, the only people who can read you like a book, would consist of Hunk and Pidge, “ Shiro started again. “I’m just good at telling when people are dead inside.”

 

“Eh, takes one to know one,” Lance whispered.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Lance cough. “I’m surprised you volunteered for this quest. I thought, since you’re a counselor now, you would try to not die.”

 

“Oh, I never give up a good opportunity to die,” Shiro joked (at least Lance hoped he was joking)


	4. The Actions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m an orphan, sir.”  
> Truth.  
> “Fine.” The man rolled his eyes for the millionth time. “How old are you now, and how old were you when they died?”  
> “I’m 18 next month and…”  
> Lie.  
> “... I was 7,” Keith swiped his wrist under his nose.  
> Truth.  
> “Well, Keith Kogane, welcome to the confederate army, we are happy to have you.”  
> “Thank you, I am happy to be aboard.”  
> Lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LET ME TELL YOUUUUU!!! I have so much planned!! and we aren't even into the quest get... or are we?

Fire.

 

Ashes. Soot. Charcoal.

 

_ Fire _ .

 

No matter what year it is, fire will always be fire.

 

Smoke.

 

It will always rise up, flickering away, spiraling into the darkening lavender sky.

 

Fire.

 

It will always cast shadow, moving and creating a song in the darkness.

 

Burn. Burning… Burnt.

 

Fire wagons of the few things that Keith could think of that never changed over the years.

 

Keith had exceptional hearing. He didn’t know whether or not it was a hades ability of just the luck of the genes. Or maybe Pidge was just a very loud person… which was very likely.

 

Keith made his way up the amphitheater, weaving through the crowd. Pidge had disappeared over the ridge near the top of the seats. They took off running, making their way to their cabin. Keith didn’t want to follow after, it seemed oddly like stalking. But Keith felt oddly responsible for this small child.

 

Keith’s eyes followed Pidge as they entered their cabin. Keith snuck to the side of the building, dead leaves crunching under his weight. He peered into the window.

 

Pidge was sitting on their bunk a small triangular box in their lap. Small brass buttons spun and ‘beeped’. They  tightened a screw, shaking the machine when nothing happened. Pidge laid back; Keith swore he heard them crying. Keith walked around the cabin, readying himself to knock on the door. His hand, tightened into a fist, hovered over the yellow painted door.

 

“Pidge?”

 

Keith had never actually met Pidge. He had arrived at camp a little after they traveled to New Rome (with Lance, Hunk and Allura). Sure he had helped them defeat some blood-thirsty galra on their way into camp.

 

Pidge looked up, their eyes full of tears. They sniffled, trying to hide their emotions. Their bottom lip pouted out.

 

“Hey… Keith…”

 

“Can I come in?”

 

They sipped their nose on their sleeve. “Yeah,” Keith walked in, hesitant to talk to Pidge, their eyes, still full of tear, were angry, narrowed… deadly.

 

“Sorry, I kinda… it wasn't technically stalking. I did follow you, though…”

 

“How- that’s stalking, Keith,” Pidge snorted

 

“Yeah, but you were acting suspiciously so I had a reason…”

 

“Well?”

 

“... well?” Keith bit his tongue, past images flashed in his mind.

 

“Well you fought me with illegal Galran materials… I'm kinda a criminal.”

 

“Oh.”

 

_ I didn't even realize what you were tampering with was Galran. _

 

“What is it?” Keith asked trying not to seem confused by the fact that they had galra tech.

 

“A roving drone, I'm modifying it so it can produce a frequency that my brother and dad can get.”

 

“And why were you crying?”

 

Keith bit his lip at the words he said. He knew that he was etching too close to their personal life.

 

“I quiznakking can’t get the quiznak of a robot to quiznakking do quiznak!” Pidge almost growled at Keith, like it was an obvious answer.

 

_ That’s a lot of quiznaks that you give _

 

“You’re lucy. Ya know?” Pidge wimpered, whipping their eyes.

 

“How so?”

 

“You’ve got Shiro, he’s your only family and you’ve never not had him…”

 

\--

1861

 

“Name?”

 

“Uh… Keith. Keith, Kogane.”

 

“Where ya from boy?” The large man with a thick beard hissed at Keith from behind a small stack of papers.

 

“Georgia,” Keith stated, reciting from memory.  _ Beat.  _ “sir.”

 

The man flipped through a stack of papers, half heartedly looking for his name. He would be enlisted whether they see his name or not, they needed everyone.

 

“Don’t see ya name, boy, who yer parents?”

 

“I’m an orphan, sir.”

 

_ Truth. _

 

“Fine.” The man rolled his eyes for the millionth time. “How old are you now, and how old were you when they died?”

 

“I’m 18 next month and…”

 

_ Lie. _

 

“... I was 7,” Keith swiped his wrist under his nose.

 

_ Truth. _

 

“Well, Keith Kogane, welcome to the confederate army, we are happy to have you.”

 

“Thank you, I am happy to be aboard.”

 

_ Lie. _

 

\--

 

“I didn’t”

 

“What?”

 

“I didn’t have shiro my whole-”

 

A loud  _ pop  _ came from the rover in Pidge’s lap, it jumped into the air and onto the floor. Pidge screamed and hopped behind Keith, who had summoned a sword without thinking twice. A blue-green beam shot out of the top of the machine. 

 

Keith pushed off Pidge and ran over to the window. The beam of light shot through the ceiling and into the purple night sky.

 

Something that Keith had heard many times in this life is shattering glass. It’s hard, coarse scratching then a sudden crash. The glass would fly in every direction, the fractures creating snowflake designs for a split second.

 

That’s what the sky looked and sounded like.

 

The sky was falling, actually falling.

 

Then, like a imperial gold knife cutting through iron, Keith actually heard the machine. It hissed and steamed, sending out a ear scratching noise. Keith had exceptional hearing. He didn’t know whether or not it was a hades ability of just the luck of the genes. 

Keith clawed at his ears, for a moment he thought he felt fur.

 

“TURN THE DAM THING OFF! I’LL GO SEE IF-”

 

And of course of all the times for a galra attack,  _ now _ was not the best time. Keith Grimaced and looked out the window again, in a matter of a few seconds the Galra ships that stayed near Camp Half Blood. The monsters were on shore.

 

“TURN IT OFF!! I’LL GO GET THE OTHERS!!”

  
  


Keith’s hand was warm, which was strange since he feel so cold earlier. His fingerless gloves made Lance’s grip loose, he worried he would fall at any moment. Lance struggled to bring his other hand up to Keith’s elbow, hoping it would be easier to grip.

 

It wasn’t that Lance’s wanted to be holding Keith’s hand, and in fact Keith had actually grabbed his. After the protective barrier went down, Keith must have shadow traveled into a nearby shadow, and tackled Lance in the process. In a matter of seconds, Keith had gotten himself and Lance back on their feet and took off running toward Allura, Hunk, and Shiro.

 

Keith didn’t take the time to slow down. Galra soldiers, who had been waiting at the shore like they knew what was going to happen, were storming the amphitheater, pinning down anyone they could. The galra dragged their new prisoner, who were mostly just confused campers, away and toward their war ships. Keith pulled on Lance’s hand, shoving him at Allura. Keith then tackled them all.

 

Black.

 

It was dark and black.

 

Stars.

 

Lance could see stars.

 

He couldn’t see stars a second ago, the clouds had cover much of CHB. But now Lance could see stars. He missed them.

 

When Lance finally came to his senses he stood up, he shoved Hunk off of him who was looking a little green. Lance looked around, not totally familiar with his surroundings. Keith had passed out, most likely from shadow travel. Shiro and Allura looked confused but also seemed to be in one piece, which was good.

 

They seemed to be on a skyscraper, the viewing deck to be precise. The railing had tall chain link fences, most likely there so people wouldn’t fall… or jump. Lance felt like he should know where he was, but his brain was clogged. Like a thick mist winding around in his brain.

 

_ Is this something that always happens during Shadow travel? _

 

Lance hoped it wasn’t, because from what he could tell, shadow travel was Keith’s main long distance form of transportation (except when running away apparently) and if Keith went through this every time…

 

Lance didn’t know how he could bear it.

 

Finally Lance's brain cleared out, he could think clearly again. The building was instantly recognizable.

 

The Empire State Building.

 

Lance had traveled here after, at least before heading to New Rome. It was reasonable to think that Keith would travel here. It was tall, so you could see everything. It was never full of monster, so it was always safe. And it just happened that is was the mortal entrance to mount Olympus.

 

Keith groaned, rolling onto his side. He took a minute to sit up. He clearly need rest, but instead he stood up, no one even making an attempt to stop him.

 

“Pidge…”

 

Pidge. Merida, they needed to get Pidge.

 

Keith struggled to walk over to the nearest shadow, since most of the deck was fairly lit. Lance thought for a minute. Keith was way too tired to be able to travel to camp and back. He would surely pass out when he got there, and even if he did come to before the galra took him, it was unlikely that Pidge hadn’t been taken. Then (even if Keith did find Pidge) Keith would probably be too exhausted to even shadow travel back to the Empire State Building.

 

Lance stumbled forward in a failed attempt in walking. “No-” his voice was quiet and breathless. “You-you can’t-” Lance reached for Keith’s hand, then everything went black.

 

\--

 

Waking up in a garbage can was not on Lance’s bucket list. And waking up with Keith was most definitely not either.

 

Lance woke with a banana peel on his face and coffee grounds between his toes.

 

_ Where the hell are my shoes? _

 

On Keith’s back was the answer. Lance couldn’t move, his everything hurt.

 

_ Holy Quiznak, I feel off the Empire State Building…! _

 

Gaining a little feeling in his feet Lance tried to kick Keith, who Lance had assumed was next to him. Only after not feeling Keith did Lance really realise how numb he was. Slowly he gained feeling from his neck down, but Lance’s head refused to move. Which to him was actually a blessing in disguise.

 

As it would turn out, when Lance was trying to stop Keith from shadow traveling he had actually pulled him on top of himself, and  _ then _ Keith shadow traveled. So when Keith passed out and they landed in a trashcan, Keith landed on Lance’s chest.

 

Under normal circumstances Lances wouldn’t have minded waking up with an attractive boy using him as a pillow. But considering that it was Keith who was using him as said pillow, Lance was not very pleased. He couldn’t quite bring himself to get Keith off of him though.

 

_ Okay _ , Lance admitted to himself,  _ He’s pretty dam warm and I happen to be cold, it won’t hurt if I just… _

 

And Lance passed out again.

 

\--

 

When Lance woke again, Keith was still on him/ Only this time, Keith had moved further up Lance’s chest. His hair was up Lance’s nose. Keith smelt spicy. It was nice-

 

_ Okay Lance, stop being gay for one quiznakking minute and deal with this situation! _

 

Lance twisted his hip, shoving Keith off of him. He awoke with a start, Keith’s face nose deep in… whatever you call that crap. Keith’s eyes were only half heartedly opened, his pupils dizzily moving around, searching for light. Keith groaned. “Where-” his hand touched the lid, panic raced across his face. “No!” Keith sat up, using his shoulder to presson on the lid, “no no no no no-” The top flew open, the light from a street lamp flooded the bin. Keith climbed out, his weak limbs giving out and he fell face first into the pavement.

 

The lid slammed back down, hitting Lance in the head. “Ow- meirda!” Lance lifted up the top, mimicking Keith’s actions by falling limply onto the greasy floor. “ _ Hey man _ , you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, quiznak off!”

 

“You just seem out of character, I’m here, we can talk about-”

 

“Stop using your freaking charmspeak on me!”

 

“Oh… sorry…”

 

Keith stared up at the stars, his long black hair was wild and was spewed across his face. Lance watched Keith’s chest rise and fall at an alarming speed. Lance rolled over, their shoulders met. Lance lifted his hand up, hovering in over Keith’s wrist. After a minute he let his hand drop, loosely holding Keith’s wrist.

 

This was something that Sophie did to him when ever he had a panic attack. So in no way at all was this a romantic gesture, because Keith was… KEITH!

 

“What-” Keith wheezed. “-are you doing with your hand?

 

“This is what Sophie does when I’m having panic or anxiety attacks, thought-” Lance  half whispered, trying to keep his voice low. “I thought it might help you…”

 

Keith wrapped his fingers around Lance’s, squeezing it a little. “Thanks…”

 

“...” Lance chokes on the words that were on the tip of his tongue. “No homo bro.”

 

“I hate you-” Keith tore his hand away, and smacked Lance in the face. “It wasn’t gay till you made it gay, Lance.”

 

“What?! I was just emphasising that me holding your hand wasn’t a romantic gesture…”  _ lies.  _ “We should get going…”

 

“Where? Camp is over taken… and-” Keith choked on his next words. “And I didn’t see where I shadow traveled…” Keith say up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I’m an idiot, a fu-”

“No!” Lance almost shouted. “No, you are not an idiot,” Lance sat up scooting forward. He hesitantly put an arm around Keith.  _ No homo.  _ “You are not an idiot, you saved me, Allura, Shiro and Hunk-”

 

“But I left Pidge, and they-”

 

Lance cut him off, pulling him into a tight hug, Keith whimpered in protest. His knees relaxed and Keith leaned into the embrace. Lance shifted his position, essentially putting Keith in his lap. “They will be fine.” Lance whispered to the top of Keith’s head, his hand slowly stroking his black hair. He mimicked Sophie’s calming techniques, trying to get a grip on Keith.

 

_ I don’t like him, I’m not his type… He’s not my type. _

 

\--

“You need new clothes, Lance.”

 

Lance looked down, he was still wearing the same clothes as the ones he put on this morning. And despite being in New York, where fashion was loud, Lance stood out. He looked like a fashion model had swan dived into a pile of poop.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Lance said, putting his hands on his hip, swaying to one side. “You look like an emo boy band ate a emo-”

 

“I get it I look like shi- crap.”

 

He didn’t. If anything, Keith looked better than Lance. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie, with a black belt across his waist over the hoodie. Despite there being a place for his sword, it was nowhere to be seen. Keith was also wearing black skinny jeans and cargo boots.

 

So yeah, Keith looked fairly attractive, but he still stuck out in the current weather and fashion conditions.

 

Keith grunted. “There’s a-” Keith spotted a television in a window display. “What’s that?”

 

“What’s what?” Lance asked confused by the question. How was it possible for Keith not to know what a television is, they’re everywhere.

 

“That thing,” Keith jabbed at the glass, pointing at the TV again. “What the hell is that?”

 

“That’s a TV, “Lance said slowly, they are literally everywhere. Keith looked at him. Lance smirked, he lifted a hand up to Keith’s chin, snickering as keith’s cheeks flushed. “Look.” He lifted Keith’s chin so he was staring at a large jumbo-screen that sat over the intersection.

 

Lance had a good view of Keith’s neck like this. He watched his adam’s apple bob up… then down. Keith’s pale skin was surprisingly freckled and there were small nicks and scars. Where did he get them all? Lance’s eyes followed a scar down as it disappeared under Keith’s jacket. Lance wondered how far it went. Lance’s hand shook as he removed it from Keith’s chin and planted in on the scar, rubbing it lightly with his thumb. 

 

Keith looked at him. Lance stared back, watching the flecks of gray dance ing Keith’s eyes. He watched the way they sparked and shifted color…

 

_ I still don’t like him. _

 

\--

 

So when Keith said that they needed new clothes he didn’t mean shopping. Which Lance should have assumed from the lack of money. But there he was sitting in an alleyway, sifting through a garbage bag, surprised to even be there. He held up a deep blue shirt against his chest. “Blue, or…” He dropped the shirt and helb up a white one with blue sleeves. “A different blue shirt?” Keith groaned.

 

“Yes.” 

 

Lance took a deep breath in. “It’s either or, not both,” Lance held up the first shirt again. “Blue or…” he held up the other. “A different blue?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“You’re useless, Keef…”

 

On his own Lance decided to wear the White and blue shirt, jeans and a green jacket.  

 

“Umm…” Keith looked around, holding a bundle of clothes. “Where are we changing?” 

 

_ Oh. _

 

“Well one of us could stand guard while the other changes over there,” Lance pointed to behind a large green garbage can. “Just um… Just don’t take off your pants…”

 

“Dually noted, Lance,” Keith walked over to the dumpster, peering his head around, checking for anyone.

 

“Dude?” Lance said tilting his head to the side. The garbage can was large enough to hid someone either in it (which they had experience in a different can earlier) of beside it. So Keith’s suspicion that someone was already there mad ‘logical’ sense. And to add the fact that it seemed like something Lance would do, tell Keith to walk over to an ominous green garbage dumpster then have some scraggly homeless dude jump him, yup, very Lance like, “I’ll tell you if someone is coming.” Keith didn’t look convinced. “Keef? I’m not evil, go change.”

 

“Please stop trying to use your charmspeak on me, it doesn’t work,” Keith walked behind the dumpster, trying to get as close to the far wall as possible. Lance turned away to stare down the alley, but looked back when Keith spoke again, his voice muffled. “And I’d very much much-ack-” Keith upper chest got caught in his hoodie, the fool had forgotten to take off the belt and it had managed to trap Keith in the body of his own jacket.

 

“Need some help, Keef?”

 

“From you?” Keith’s hands blindly searched for the belt buckle, his fingers fruitlessly sliding over the black leather. “No, I’m good- UGH, where is that-” Lance gave up and walked over. He forced Keith’s hands from the belt, unbuckling it for him. “Okay…” Keith whispered, or maybe yelled, it was hard to tell with his face pressed against a hoodie.

 

“Arms up.”

 

“I Don’t need your help, Lance,” Keith growled.

 

“That’s what you said last time, and look where that-”

 

“Okay, fine,” Keith lifted his arms up and Lance lifted up the hoodie. With his head finally visible, Lance was about to step away, when someone passed by. Lance panicked and accidentally pinned Keith to the wall.

 

Now in New York, when passing through an alley you must always be prepared for two teenage boys to be hiding beside a dumpster, one being undressed, pinned to a wall, and hair a mess. And of course since this is the rule in New York the old lady that passed by the said boys simply blinked twice, muttered something about homosexuals then continues on her merry way.

 

Lance and Keith watched her disappear, then Keith kicked Lance in a not so friendly spot.

 

“HOLY-” Lance fell on the floor in pain, he rolled on to his side in a not so friendly looking way. “Why-” Lance spat biting his lip. “The HELL-” he yelling while groaning. “Would you do that?!?!”

 

“You freaking pinned me to a wall, sorry if  _ you’re _ uncomfortable!” Keith tosses his hoodie at Lance.

 

“YES, Yes I am very uncomfortable!” They stared at eachother for a minute. Lance’s eyes flicked down to Keith’s shirt, which he never actually seen before.

 

Lance was surprised to see a shirt that was not black, instead the shirt was a blue button down with gold accents. The shirt was more of a tunic and went halfway down Keith’s thighs. The excess fabric must have been tucked into the hoodie, no wonder why it looked so oversized.

 

“What are you staring at?”

 

“Your shirt… it looks…”

 

“Old, I know, there is no reason to bully me about it.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“Just stand guard, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

  
  
  


1863.

 

Keith stared into the woods. Kyle ran, weaving between the trees. A Springfield rifle loose in his hands; blood tricked down his wrist, staining the wooden barrel. Keith couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. Kyle’s chocolatey skin was easy to spot against the bloody snow, his darker brown hair had snowflakes tangled into the strands. He was too handsome to be caught up in this war. Not the civil war… no, the war of the gods.

The Galra invaded the earth like a plague, rising from the underworld like ants fleeing a flooded hill. The Galra had always been there, the underworld, but coming to the surface, the overworld, was dangerous. The Romans (confederate) saw hope in them for future soldiers, blood-thirsty hybrids, the Greek (union) saw them like every other monster… deadly.

Keith’s father- Hades- was technoly a Greek god, but he believed the same things at the Roman gods. So Hades wanted Keith (who was born after the Galra “invaded”) to join the Romans and defend the Galra. But Keith defied his father and joined the Greek to fight off the Galra monsters.

A few months into the war, Keith was assigned to be a spy by joining the ranks of the Confederate army to fight along side of the Romans. Midas, the officer in charge on Keith’s platoon, was well informed about the war and information slipped out of his asoon as he touched alcohol. 

 

So keith spent several days a week buttering up Midas and memorizing all of the secrets he held. Then he would shadow travel to a closed location and give the Greeks what they needed.

 

Two years into the plan and everything was working smoothly. Keith was still under the radar and the Union were winning. But Keith never anticipated falling for Kyle.

 

Kyle was a confederate, unknowingly fighting alongside of the Romans. Sure, he disagreed with the confederate's moral and what they were fighting for, but Kyle was the enemy to Keith. But he couldn’t help falling in love with him.

 

Keith didn’t know what is was about him. His snarky over confident personality? His flirtatious behavior? His loyalty? His ability to help other even if it means sacrificing himself?

 

So maybe Keith could see it, right from the start. He was meant to fall for Kyle.

 

Kyle leaned against a thick tree, bushes wrapped around his waist. Keith followed after squeezing between Kyle and one of the bushes.

 

“You see the front lines?”

 

Keith looked around the trunk of the tree, his eyes scanned the area, spotting no one. “No, I don’t see anyone.”

 

“Anyone?” Kyle said with a hint of flirting. Keith turned back to look at him.

 

“So help me-” Keith started but Kyle cut him off by shoving his hand over Keith’s mouth. His hands were warm.

 

“Shh, I hear someone coming-” Kyle moved his hands to Keith’’s shoulders. “Get down,” Kyle pushes Keith into the bushes, their bodies presses together in the tight, confined place. Kyle kicked his rifle to the side, a fruitless attempt at making more room. He looked over at Keith, his blue eyes sparkling. “Hey.”

 

“So help me, if you claimed to hear some coming just so you can-” Keith said but was cut off by Kyle kissing him.

 

“You talk too much…” Kyle mumbled into Keith’s lips. He shifted his weight, trying to get a better angle. Kyle’s hands ran through Keith’s hair, pulling it at the roots. Keith groaned at the slight pain. But got his revenge by nipping Kyle’s bottom lip.

 

“You’re one to talk ‘Mr. soupery’,” Keith pulled away for a second, he enjoyed watching Kyle lean in, trying to catch Keith’s lips again. Kyle was surprised to not find Keith, his lips ghosting the last kiss.

 

“Wha-”

 

Keith took this opportunity to lick back into Kyle’s mouth, his tongue running along Kyle’s bottom lip. He lifted his hands to cup Kyle’s cheeks, deepening the kiss further.

 

“I swear I saw two men this way…”

 

Keith and Kyle froze. Their lips still attached, but hard as stone.

 

“Whatever louis, if you see anything move-”

 

A twig snapped.

 

\--

 

Keith and Lance peered around the corner of a building, their eyes locked with the Empire State building; flags whipped in the wind.

 

Galra troops, dresses as security guards, patrolled the base of the building. There blasters weren’t visible but Lance knew they were there, hidden under the folds of their uniforms. 

 

“How the hell are we going to get in there?” Keith whispered, Lance realized how close they were and shifted to gain some room.

 

“What if we just like, walk in there like regular mortals? It’s not like they can smell us like normal monster can,” Lance pulled keith behind the building again. Keith pondered on the plan.

 

“That will never wo-” Lance stood up straight and walked out of the alley. “Fu- quiznak.” Keith ran after Lance, barely able to keep up since Lance had much longer legs. 

 

They approached the front door, paying no attention to either of the galra doormen. The interior of the Empire was entirely made of polished marble and brass accents. Lance felt right at home.

 

“How the hell did that work?”

 

“HA! Suck it mullet!”

 

“I hate you and everything you believe in, Lance.”

 

“What if I believed in mothman?”

 

“Mothman  _ is  _ real, Lance. Nice try,” They both walked to the front desk.

 

“Mmhmm, sure Keith, sure- floor 600 please- I’m not an idiot,” The front desk lady stared at them, but let them pass. They would be in Olympus soon.

 

“You have to be an idiot not to see what’s right in front of you face. We already know aliens are real, that’s just the tip of the iceberg of what the government is hiding from us.”

 

“I’m sorry, but you would have to be from… like the 19th century to think Mothman is real. That’s how oblivious to modern culture you’d have to be.”

 

Keith groaned in a protest. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“ _ You don’t make any sense! _ ”

 

Keith shoved Lance aside, walking over to the elevator faster. Lance caught up. “What century are you even from?”

 

“None of your business C.E.”

 

“Well since you’re on my quest, I deserve to know!”

 

“Excuse me,  _ your  _ quest?  _ I’m  _ the one prophesied to beat the galra!”

 

“And  _ I’m _ the one who the prophecy was told to!”

 

“You’re just some over confident pretty boy who happened to be sitting in the front row!”

 

Lance gasped, pressing his palm firm against his chest. “You think I’m pretty?”

 

“Shut the quiznak up!”

 

“You’re not denying it,” They walked into olympus. “I still want to know what year you were born…”

 

They weaved between people, some familiar some not.

 

“Still haven’t told me.”

 

“Told you what? Is that Allura?”

 

“What year you were born. And no, she’s too short to be Allura. If Hades didn’t break the promise that means you’re at least…” Lance counted on him fingers, his tongue slightly hanging out.

 

“77 years…”

 

“So you’re 77-”

 

“No, you said  _ at least  _ how old I’d have to be.”

 

“Then how old-” Lance said but was cut off by a hand over his mouth. Keith glared at him.

 

“I’m 168 years old now will you-”

 

Lance licked his hand. Keith yelped and jumped back. “Woah… that’s pretty old. Did you see any dinosaurs?”

 

\--

 

1863.

 

Keith hated this, every second, every sound, every one.

 

Even after letting another human- a boy of all those things- Keith hated his life.

 

He wanted a normal life. He wanted to settle down, to relax. He wanted to watch sunsets before bed, and sunrises before work. He wanted a family. He wanted Kyle.

 

Their lips stuck together, both too afraid to move away from the warmth of the other boy. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, his eyebrows knitting together in a mixture of fear and annoyance. Keith removed his hands from Kyles cheek, instantly missing the heat, he brought them down to the ground, inspect the earth that they had been making out on.

 

_ Snow. _

 

In all the sensations of the kiss, Keith hadn't even noticed the old icy ground beneath them. He leaned back, Kyle and his lips, followed suit. Kyle’s eyes darted around in terror… the men had stopped talking.

 

Keith lied down, his hair catching on twigs and was now covered in snow. He could feel the mossy ground beneath the snow, a rock poked his shoulder.

 

“I swore I-” Louis was cut off when another started talking.

 

“Sheet oop,” the second man hissed, his thick accent unfamiliar to Keith. “Me-dass woo-n’t be huppy if we loose da boys.”

 

Kyle pulled back, finally removing his lips from Keith's. He rested his head on Keith’s chest, tears filling his eyes.

 

“I was just sayin’ that I thought I saw Kyle.”

 

\--

 

“Lance?”

 

“Yup?”

 

“Quiznak off.”

 

“Dually noted. So is that a yes?”

 

“LANCE!”

 

“Quiznakking off, quiznakking off!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLOT TWIST! not really. you only knew Kyle for what? two chapters? all four? either way... hehehehe. Trust me you will be seeing a LOT more of him.
> 
> So we finally have a little pining, not much, mind you, but a little. also the clothes scene was my favorite to write.
> 
> WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK!?!?! I love all the responses to this, I LOVE YOU ALL!!!


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